


Unspoken

by Tenukii



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Inspired by Music, Kylo Ren Redemption, M/M, Mutual Pining, Revised Version, Silly Stubborn Men, Teenage Dorks, adult dorks, silly stubborn boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-05 09:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15860889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenukii/pseuds/Tenukii
Summary: Poe Dameron and Ben Solo have never known what to say to one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song lyrics are from Koda Kumi’s version of “1000 Words” from Final Fantasy X-2.

_I acted so distant then,_   
_Turned my back as you walked away,_   
_But I was listening._   
_That you fight your battles far from me,_   
_It’s not right to me._

\--

Poe Dameron hadn’t entered the Flight Academy air show because he expected to win, or even because he _wanted_ to win.  It had just sounded like fun.

But Poe _did_ win, and he couldn’t deny he was a little proud of the accomplishment.  Now that it was all over, the other young pilots-in-training had gathered around him to congratulate him, along with many of the young people who had been watching.

Most of them were Poe’s friends—he had _lots_ of friends—and even the trainees who were more like rivals were gruffly polite about losing to him.  Poe never sought out attention, but of course he liked it.  And anyway, some of the girls were kind of cute even if none of the guys was really his type.

But then Poe’s small sea of admirers parted, and a second later, Poe saw why.  He swallowed hard as General Leia Organa approached them, and the other kids fell back shyly.  Poe _liked_ the general, they all did, but she could be intimidating despite her petite stature and pretty face.  Even though General Organa smiled at Poe, he felt anxious.  Apparently everyone else did too, because the others had all abandoned Poe by the time she reached him.

And as if Poe weren’t nervous enough, the general wasn’t alone.  A tall, sulky-looking boy trudged after her.

“That was some impressive flying, Poe,” General Organa praised him.  “I know your mother would be proud of you.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” Poe stammered.  He tried to meet the general’s warm brown eyes, but his own gaze kept flicking to the boy behind her: her son, Ben.  It didn’t help that Ben was already a few inches taller than his mother, and Poe could clearly see the glare the other boy cast at him over the top of her head.

“After your graduation, you’ll be a credit to the Resistance,” the general was saying, “provided you choose to join us.”

Poe looked back at General Organa, blinking, and exclaimed, “Of course I’m going to join the Resistance!”  The general smiled at him again, but Poe suddenly realized how tired she looked.  _She’s worried about something,_ he thought.

“I’m grateful for your dedication, Poe,” General Organa replied.  “We _all_ are.”  At the last sentence, Ben actually rolled his eyes.  Poe stared, amazed to see anyone giving the quick-tempered general that kind of attitude—even behind her back.  As if she could sense her son’s actions, General Organa’s own eyes narrowed slightly, yet her lips pursed in what was almost a smile.

“Poe, I’ll be right back.  I need to go speak to the others who participated—they _all_ did well—but I have some questions for you about your training, too,” the general told him.

“Yes ma’am,” Poe nodded.  She started past him, Ben following—until she turned and gave her son a stern look.

“ _You_ stay here,” she commanded.  “You’ve caused me enough trouble today already.”

“ _You’re_ the one who made me come in the first place,” Ben muttered after her back was turned.  Poe had a feeling General Organa heard him anyway, but she ignored him as she went to greet the other pilots who had reconvened farther down the airfield.

Poe was trying to think of something to say to Ben when the taller boy abruptly turned to him and snarled, “We are _not_ going to be friends, Dameron.”

“Uh. . . .”  Poe nearly took a step backward before he caught himself.  “What?”

“That’s why she’s leaving us alone, to make us talk to each other.  She wants us to be friends.”  Ben scowled and folded his arms.  “Probably why she dragged me to this stupid air show in the first place—to make me watch _you_ showing off how great you are.”

“ _What?_ ”

The two of them hadn’t spoken to each other in years, not since they were young kids, and Poe was amazed to find that Ben hated him so much.  Poe had wanted to get to know Ben, had found him mysterious and intriguing even though Ben had a reputation of being stuck-up and spoiled.  Now, Poe was beginning to think that that reputation was accurate.

“You heard me,” Ben growled.

“I wasn’t _showing off_ ,” Poe snapped.  “I was having fun!  And I’m sure General Organa didn’t make you come to watch _me_.  She probably wanted you to get out and—and have fun too.”

“Do I _look_ like I’m having fun?”

Poe lifted an eyebrow and replied, “No.  But then, you _never_ do.”  A few minutes ago, he couldn’t have imagined that he would be smarting off to the general’s son, but Poe had swiftly ceased to care who Ben’s parents were.  Poe decided that his respect for General Organa didn’t have to extend to her offspring if he didn’t deserve it.

To Poe’s gratification, Ben looked startled for a second before he narrowed his eyes again, just as his mother had.  He looked nothing like her, yet Poe could see a resemblance between them in their gestures and facial expressions.

Some of the other kids called Ben ugly, but Poe had never thought so.  True, Ben didn’t favor either of his attractive parents.  Yet when Poe watched him from afar, he admired Ben’s dark eyes and hair, his pale skin, the curve of his lips (even though they were often sneering at something), the way he moved: gracefully, until sooner or later he’d trip or drop something or do something else clumsy.  Poe liked seeing that, not out of meanness but because he found it cute, something human about the boy who acted like he didn’t want to be human at all.

“Quit staring at me,” Ben grumbled.  He looked down at the ground, and so did Poe, feeling his cheeks flush.

“I don’t want to be your friend anyway,” Poe returned in a mumble.  It was the first thing he could think of say in his own defense, even if it weren’t true.  “I already have plenty of friends.”

“Yeah.  I noticed.”  Ben’s tone was sardonic, but when Poe risked another glance at him, the dark eyes watching him again looked a little wounded.

Poe bit his lip then murmured, “Look, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.  I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Hmph.  Like I care about anything _you_ say,” scoffed Ben.  He took another step toward Poe, maybe trying to be intimidating.  He _was_ , a little, since he was taller than Poe, but it was getting to the point where almost _all_ the other boys were taller than Poe.  He was used to it (though still hoping for a last-minute growth spurt), and he didn’t back down now.

Instead, he glared right back up at Ben and retorted, “Hey, I’m trying to be nice!”

“Don’t bother on _my_ account.  Mother’s the one you have to impress to get ahead around here, not me.  _I_ don’t matter,” Ben told him.

Poe tried his hardest to stay mad at the other boy, but he couldn’t.  Somehow, Ben kept his emotions constantly flip-flopping: Poe hated him one second, felt sorry for him the next.  It didn’t help that the closer they got, the more attractive Ben looked to him.  Poe’s heart thumped in his chest, hard.

“Of course you matter,” Poe finally mumbled.

Ben gave a bitter laugh.  “Not to her, not the way you do.  You’re not even out of the Academy yet, and you’re already her favorite.  But she can’t make _me_ like you.”

“Good!  Because I don’t _want_ you to like me!” snarled Poe.  To hell with Ben’s feelings, or whether Poe hurt them.  Ben had hurt _his_.

“Good!” Ben echoed.  They glared at each other, Ben looking slightly down and Poe slightly up so that their eyes locked.  Then Ben spun around and stalked away from Poe.  He didn’t seem to care that he was disobeying his mother’s orders.  Something hurt behind Poe’s eyes, and he blinked hard as he turned his back on the departing boy.

_Damn him anyway,_ Poe thought.  He spotted General Organa coming back toward him and took a deep breath to compose himself.  _I’ll show him.  Maybe I can’t make him like me, but one day, I’m gonna be the best pilot in the Resistance.  I’ll impress him if it kills me!_

“Where did Ben go?” General Organa asked when she reached Poe, although the look on her face indicated no surprise at finding him gone.

Poe managed to respond calmly, “I don’t know, ma’am.  He said he didn’t want to talk to me and just left.”

The general sighed, “I apologize for his poor manners, Poe.  Anyhow, do you have a few minutes now to talk about your training?”

“Yes ma’am, of course!” Poe enthused.  He was pleased General Organa was showing such an interest in him, and anyway, he always enjoyed talking about flying.  Poe even managed to forget about Ben, for a little while.

* * *

_The dream isn’t over yet._   
_I pretend and say I can forget._   
_I still live in that day._   
_You’ve been there with me all the way._   
_It’s not right of me._

\--

The last place Ben Solo wanted to be was at a Flight Academy air show, with his mother, watching Poe Dameron perform.  But Leia had made him go, and now she was going to make him talk to Poe.  He just _knew_ it as he followed her out onto the airfield where the pilots had gathered after landing their planes.

For some reason, Leia seemed to have singled out Poe as the most promising of the teenagers training to fly for the Resistance.  Well, not for just “some” reason; he was the son of friends, and beyond that, Poe clearly was the best pilot in the Academy, not to mention smart, resourceful. . . and handsome.  Sure enough, his mother headed straight toward Poe as Ben trailed after her.

The admirers who had surrounded Poe scattered when the general approached them, and a few of them cast distasteful looks at Ben as they left.  He was well aware that they didn’t like him, but Ben didn’t _try_ to be liked.  Not like Poe, that little suck-up, who was smiling at Ben’s mother shyly as if he didn’t know he was absolutely perfect and sure to please her no matter what.

“That was some impressive flying, Poe,” Ben’s mother said as they drew near.  “I know your mother would be proud of you.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am.”  Poe spoke to Leia, but he was staring at Ben.  Ben glared right back into those wide, dark eyes with long, black lashes and eyelids that seemed perpetually half-closed.  Ben knew he himself would never be that ridiculously good-looking—he’d never even be _attractive_.  Still, that didn’t give Poe the right to stare like that.

Ben’s mother was still talking: “After your graduation, you’ll be a credit to the Resistance, provided you choose to join us.”  Poe’s gaze jerked from Ben down to the general, and he looked surprised.

“Of course I’m going to join the Resistance!” Poe cried.  No wonder Leia liked him, the pretty little sycophant.  Ben gritted his teeth.

When Leia told Poe, “I’m grateful for your dedication, Poe.  We _all_ are,” Ben couldn’t stand it, and he rolled his eyes.  He felt gratified when Poe saw and stared at him again—this time in wonder at Ben’s nerve.  But, as usual, Ben ended up paying for it.  Maybe it was the Force, or maybe it was just being a mother, but Leia somehow knew Ben was acting up.

“Poe, I’ll be right back,” she said to the young pilot.  “I need to go speak to the others who participated—they _all_ did well—but I have some questions for you about your training, too.”

Ben clenched his teeth even harder, barely hearing Poe’s reply as he thought, _You are **not** leaving me here with him!_   Yet his mother was doing just that, for when Ben tried to follow her, she turned on him with the tired glare he knew all too well.

“ _You_ stay here.  You’ve caused me enough trouble today already,” Leia snapped; then she walked off and Ben fumed.

“ _You’re_ the one who made me come in the first place,” he muttered, loud enough that his mother probably heard him.  She didn’t give him any reaction, though, so Ben rounded on Poe, who was looking up at him with a sort of wonder.

“We are _not_ going to be friends, Dameron,” Ben informed him.

To Ben’s satisfaction, Poe looked even more startled than before as he stammered, “Uh. . . .  What?”

“That’s why she’s leaving us alone, to make us talk to each other.  She wants us to be friends,” Ben scoffed.  He glared at the smaller boy and crossed his arms across his chest.  “Probably why she dragged me to the stupid air show in the first place—to make me watch _you_ showing off how great you are.”

Poe’s lovely eyes widened even more.  “ _What?_ ”

Luxuriating in the reaction he was getting, Ben growled, “You heard me.”

Then, finally, Poe snapped.  Ben had expected him to just stand there and take it, too eager to please the general to fight with her son.  But apparently, he did have a backbone to go with that pretty face.

“I wasn’t _showing off_.  I was having fun!” he retorted.  Poe’s eyes narrowed again into a glare as he continued, “And I’m sure General Organa didn’t make you come to watch _me_.  She probably wanted you to get out and—and have fun too.”

“Do I _look_ like I’m having fun?” Ben scoffed.

Poe replied, “No.  But then, you _never_ do.”

Ben glared back at him, although Poe’s expression had softened.  He was looking at Ben more thoughtfully now, eyes moving all over his face.  He looked. . . curious.  Interested.  _Interested in **what** —me?_ Ben wondered, then immediately chided himself for it. _Right.  If he’s interested in me, it’s only as a way to impress Mother._

“Quit staring at me,” Ben muttered aloud, shifting his eyes to glower at the ground instead of at Poe.

“I don’t want to be your friend anyway.”  Poe mumbled the words, but Ben heard them clearly enough.  And they hurt.  He looked back at the other boy’s face without meaning or wanting to.  Poe was looking at the ground too, and his face had darkened in a blush.  He looked so handsome, he quite literally took Ben’s breath away, and Ben hated him more than ever.

“I already have plenty of friends,” Poe added, as if Ben didn’t know that.  As if he hadn’t watched from afar day after day as Poe had laughed and worked and flirted with everyone but him.

“Yeah,” Ben said, as coldly as he could.  “I noticed.”  Poe looked up at him again, and Ben saw him suck his lower lip in under the edges of his perfect white teeth.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the shorter boy blurted out after a moment.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

The apology sounded so sincere, and those dark eyes looked so concerned, it nearly undid Ben.  What if he apologized too?  What if he gave his mother what she wanted and made friends with Poe Dameron?

“Hmph.  Like I care about anything _you_ do,” Ben retorted before he could weaken any further.  He stepped toward the smaller boy, but Poe didn’t back away, only hardened his eyes to glare right back at Ben.

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice!” Poe snapped.

“Don’t bother on _my_ account,” Ben informed him.  “Mother’s the one you have to impress to get ahead around here, not me.  _I_ don’t matter.”

Poe was quiet again, _staring_ again; then he murmured, “Of course you matter.”

Ben resisted the urge to give in and said with a humorless laugh, “Not to her, not the way you do.  You’re not even out of the Academy yet, and you’re already her favorite.  But she can’t make _me_ like you.”

For just a second, Poe’s intriguing eyes looked wounded.  But then the look was gone, absorbed by a scowl, and he retorted, “Good!  Because I don’t _want_ you to like me!”

“Good!” Ben cried right back.  They eyed each other for another second, until Ben couldn’t stand it anymore.  He turned away from Poe and stormed off the airfield.  Ben knew his mother would let him have it later for disobeying her, but he didn’t care.  He just had to get away from Poe Dameron before he lost his temper or his heart or both.

Ben looked back over his shoulder, once, but Poe had already turned away from him and was watching the general and the other pilots.

_He doesn’t care at all,_ Ben thought.  _If he really thought I mattered, he would have come after me. . . or at least he’d still be looking at me._

\--

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

_“Don’t you worry, ‘cause I'll come back,”_   
_I could hear you speaking_   
_As you walked to the door._   
_I acted strong to hide the pain_   
_When I turn back the pages._   
_Crying might’ve been the answer._   
_What if I shed my tears_   
_And begged you not to leave?_

\--

Poe had heard that Ben was leaving— _everyone_ had heard by now.  Poe felt sad about it, even though he and Ben never had much to do with one another.  Although he’d given up on trying to make friends with Ben, Poe had never stopped trying to impress him.  And now Ben was going away, sent off by his parents to train with his uncle, the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.

_I’m the one who ended up impressed, by **him** ,_ Poe had thought when he first heard.

Poe never expected to get a chance to say goodbye.  But then he went outside after dinner on the night before Ben was to leave, and there Ben was, standing some distance away with his back to Poe.  Alone, looking at something—the sky maybe—or perhaps at nothing at all.  Poe’s feet froze to the ground, and he stood watching the tall, dark-haired figure and wondering what to do.

_I should go back inside and leave him alone,_ Poe told himself.  _He hates me, so what would we have to say to each other?_   Both were perfectly logical thoughts, and both were trumped by one that made no sense: _He’s going away, and he’s never coming back._   That was ridiculous, because of course Ben would come back when his training was finished, and he’d probably visit home over the next two years, too.

Poe walked toward Ben, feet crunching on the tarmac so that the other boy had to hear his approach.  Still, Ben didn’t react until Poe reached him and stood there to look at nothing by his side.

“Poe.”  Ben spoke his name in that startlingly deep voice, without rancor, without anything really.  Just as a way of greeting, the way two acquaintances will nod at each other when they pass in the hallway.

“Ben.”  Poe looked up at him, farther up than he had the last time they’d spoken—Ben had grown even taller, while Poe had not.  Poe began, “I wanted to—” then broke off because he wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish.

Ben glanced down at Poe then back up at the sky.  “You wanted to what?”

Poe floundered for something and finally came up with, “To say good luck.  With your training.”  Ben looked at him again.  Now his expression hovered somewhere between hopeful and incredulous, as if he were judging whether Poe meant his well wishes or not.

“Thanks,” Ben finally said.

And then Poe realized it didn’t matter what Ben thought of him, because Ben was going away, because Ben never talked to Poe even while they were together, because Ben had decided right from the start that he would _never_ like Poe.  Nothing Poe said now could make things worse between them.

“I feel like I’m never going to see you again,” Poe blurted out.

At first Ben stared at Poe with his head turned, but then he shifted his entire body to face the shorter boy directly.  Poe couldn’t read his expression now except that the dark eyes were wide and the lips Poe so admired were parted.  They closed, and Ben swallowed so hard, Poe could see his throat working.  Poe waited, prickles of anxiety flaring on his face and arms, for the inevitable bitter response: “What’s it to _you_?” or “I hope you don’t.”

Instead, Ben murmured in a hoarse voice, “Oh don’t worry, I’ll be back.  When I’m finished training, I’ll come back just to show _you_ up.”  He spoke in a teasing tone, yet his face still looked as anxious as Poe felt.

Poe matched Ben’s tone and countered, “Yeah?  Well, I’ll be the top pilot around here by then, so you’d better be ready.”

“I won’t be surprised if you are.”  Ben’s words came grudgingly, but they sounded sincere.  Poe smiled before he could stop himself, because those words meant Ben _had_ noticed him.  And then, wonder of wonders, Ben smiled back at him.  The smile was small and fleeting, but it was _there_ , curving Ben’s pale mouth and changing every aspect of his face completely.

“Take care of yourself,” Poe told the taller boy.  He wanted to say a thousand other things, but none of them seemed right; none of them made any more sense than Poe’s irrational conviction that Ben was leaving forever.  _I’ll miss you_ , when Poe hardly ever saw him anyway.  _I wish we could have been friends,_ when it was too late.  _Don’t go_.

“I will,” Ben said.  Of course he would take care of himself.  Of course he _wanted_ to go, didn’t he, because what interest could home (and Poe) hold for a future Jedi?

_A Jedi,_ Poe thought.  He wasn’t even sure what being one entailed; he only felt vaguely it had to do with suppression of emotion and unquestioning loyalty to the Light side of the Force and. . . chastity probably, celibacy, something like that.  Poe felt his face heat up at how disappointing that thought was.  Something else that didn’t make sense.

Ben spoke again: “You. . . take care of yourself too.”  When Poe looked at him again, Ben’s expression hurt him: not because it was cold or angry, but because it was concerned, like Ben really worried about Poe’s wellbeing.  It hurt so much, Poe might have teared up if he dwelt on it too long.  And what if _that_ happened, what if he started crying and told Ben not to go, not to leave the base, not to leave _him_?

“M-maybe I’ll send you a hologram sometime,” Poe heard himself saying instead.  He looked away as he spoke, because even saying _that_ was embarrassing.

Ben was quiet a moment before he replied, “Okay.  Poe—”  But Ben broke off whatever he had been about to say, and he sucked his lower lip in between his teeth as he sighed, “I should go in before Mother comes looking for me.  Goodbye, Poe.”

Poe nodded and whispered in a tremulous voice, “Goodbye, Ben.”  He put out his hand.

Ben looked at Poe’s before lifting his own to clasp it.  Poe looked down too, at the larger, paler hand wrapped around the smaller, darker one.  Ben’s hand felt cold, and although Poe had meant to shake it and let it go, he just held it until it had cooled his own skin as well.  Then Ben’s thumb brushed the back of Poe’s knuckles, his fingers contracted lightly over Poe’s, and he let go.  As soon as Ben turned away, Poe let himself cry, and tears ran down his face as, oblivious, Ben went back inside.

* * *

_“Don't you worry ‘cause I'll write to you,”_   
_I could see you speaking_   
_As you looked away._   
_I acted strong to hide the love_   
_When I turn back the pages._   
_Anger might’ve been the answer._   
_What if I shook my head_   
_And said that I can’t wait?_

\--

The night before Ben had to leave, he went outside, alone.  It was the only place he could get away from his parents, the frenzied preparations for his departure, the droids—oh, how _good_ it was to get away from the droids.  Mostly C-3PO.  R2-D2 was snarky yet tolerable, but the golden protocol droid grated on Ben’s nerves like no one else could.  He was angrier at his parents, but Threepio was the one who might finally make him lose it.

So Ben walked outside and looked up at the sky and tried to calm down.  They were sending him away.  Of course, that wasn’t how his mother framed it, and Ben _did_ look forward to growing stronger in the Force with his uncle’s training—but it all came down to them finding a way to get rid of him.  Because he was trouble, and he knew it.  He _tried_ to be trouble.

Ben wondered, _But is this what I wanted, to be kicked out and sent away from my home?  Sent away to Luke because they want me to become more like him and less like Grandfather. . . less like myself._   He didn’t want to leave the base.  And he didn’t want to stay.  He didn’t know _what_ he wanted.

He heard the crunch of feet behind him, approaching.  Who was it?  Not that damned droid because Threepio toddled and these steps were hesitant but firm.  And anyway, Ben could sense an organic life force. . . one familiar but which he couldn’t place.  Not his mother.  Not his father—but of course Han Solo wouldn’t come out there after Ben unless Leia made him.

Before Ben could figure it out, the person had reached him and stood beside him.  Ben looked, and it was Poe Dameron.  Ben’s heartbeat spiked, and he stared down at the other boy in utter bewilderment before raising his head to watch the night sky again.

“Poe,” he murmured.  Why was Poe there?  Ben couldn’t fathom it.

“Ben,” Poe returned.  Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw the shorter boy look up at him.  “I wanted to—”  And then he stopped.  Ben glanced into the brown eyes watching him, then made himself turn away again.

“You wanted to what?” Ben prompted.  He wanted to know what Poe Dameron had come out there to do. . . what in the galaxy he could _ever_ want to do with, or for, Ben.

Poe didn’t respond at first.  Then, finally, he said, “To say good luck.  With your training.”

Ben had no idea why Poe would want to wish him luck, why Poe would care or want anything for him at all.  He turned his head back down to study Poe’s face, trying to figure him out.  Poe’s perfect features expressed an earnestness Ben hoped was genuine even though he couldn’t understand why it would be.  _Not with the way I’ve treated him,_ Ben thought.

“Thanks,” was all he said aloud.  It was hard to say even that.  Everything in him wanted to lash out at Poe, to take refuge in anger because that was the one emotion Ben could understand.  All the other things Poe made him feel. . . those things refused to be comprehended.

“I feel like I’m never going to see you again,” Poe blurted out.  Ben felt his own mouth fall open, and he couldn’t remember how to close it.  _Why did you say that?_ he thought, his brain firing words at Poe which his lips couldn’t form.  _What gives you that feeling?  And why would you tell me?  Why would you **care**?_   He turned his body to face Poe and finally managed to close his mouth as they stared at each other.  Ben swallowed hard before he managed to reply

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll be back,” he told the other boy, because he had to say _something_ , and he was able to force a cockiness into his shaky voice he didn’t really feel.  “When I’m finished training, I’ll come back just to show _you_ up.”  Poe’s lovely eyes widened and lit up.

“Yeah?  Well, I’ll be the top pilot around here by then, so you’d better be ready,” he teased.

“I won’t be surprised if you are,” Ben muttered.  He meant it, because Poe was good—not just good, the _best_ , already.  Ben knew it from keeping track of Poe over the past few months, from watching him fly and listening every time Poe’s name came up in conversation.  More than anything else, he had watched Poe’s face from a distance—the expressive, beautiful face that haunted Ben’s dreams when he failed to control them.  Ben had seen Poe smile often, but never at him.  Until now.

Now, Poe smiled at his words, at _him_ , and that smile made Ben smile too from sheer joy.  He was able to control it after a minute, but he knew Poe had seen it.

“Take care of yourself,” Poe said.

“I will.”  Ben stopped when Poe’s eyes left his face, drifting to the side.  Ben watched as Poe’s tan skin darkened more over his cheekbones.  Whatever he was thinking of, it was making him blush, and he looked more handsome than Ben had ever seen him look before.  _I don’t want to leave,_ Ben thought.  _I don’t want to leave **him**._   And that was something else he could not comprehend.

“You. . . take care of yourself too,” Ben murmured.  At the sound of his voice, Poe looked up at him again.  The eyes gazing up at him under their lids looked very bright until they shifted away again.

“M-maybe I’ll send you a hologram sometime,” the shorter boy muttered.

_No, you won’t.  You’ll forget all about me—and I hope I’ll forget about you,_ Ben told Poe in his mind.  But aloud, he only said, “Okay.”  And in spite of his desire to forget, Ben tried to memorize every detail of how Poe’s face looked when their eyes met again.

“Poe—” Ben began, almost saying any one of the hundred things he felt and didn’t understand.  _I wish I could stay here with you.  I wish you could come with me.  I hope that one day I’ll be someone you can admire—that I’ll be as good as you._ He caught himself just in time and bit his lip to prevent any words from escaping.

When he was sure he had control of himself, Ben told the other boy, “I should go in before Mother comes looking for me.  Goodbye, Poe.”

Poe nodded and murmured, “Goodbye, Ben.”  His voice shook.  Then he held out his hand, smaller than Ben’s but as perfectly proportioned as the rest of Poe.  Ben looked down at it as he took Poe’s warm hand in his.  He held it until his own palm was warm too; then he ran his thumb over the back of Poe’s knuckles, feeling each ridge and each valley between them.  Finally, Ben squeezed Poe’s hand, just a little, and let it go.  However, he couldn’t bear to see Poe’s face again, so Ben turned away and retreated back inside without looking back

\--

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

_Those thousand words have never been spoken._  
_So far away, I'm sending them to you wherever you are,_  
_Suspended on shiny wings._

\--

Ben had finally come home, and Poe still didn’t know what to say to him.  Poe found that he could forgive Ben for what he’d done to him: for capturing Poe, for ordering his interrogation and torture, even for stealing the very thoughts from his mind.  But those were minute grievances compared to what Ben had done to his own family, and Poe didn’t know if he even had the right to forgive _that_.  Poe wasn’t Ben’s family—he wasn’t Ben’s _anything_ , and he never had been.  Never his friend, never even his enemy because Kylo Ren had only been interested in Poe for the map he carried.  And now that Ben had come back to the Light, Poe should hold no interest for him at all.

 _Just how things always were,_ Poe thought as he sat out in the near darkness beside his X-Wing, what had become his favorite spot to be alone.  Well, alone from organic companionship anyway: as usual, BB-8 followed Poe outside when he escaped the base’s crowded celebration in Ben’s honor.  Normally, Poe enjoyed a good party as much as anyone, maybe even more so.  Yet he couldn’t stand to remain there amidst the crowd with Ben at its center, like a black hole with a spiral galaxy of living bodies held around him by his gravity.

Poe hadn’t even been able to look at Ben for very long, and not because his face had changed.  It was older of course, more mature and scarred from his forehead down through his right cheek.  Nevertheless, Ben’s face was fundamentally the same as when he was a boy, still bearing that look of haughty bewilderment, and _that_ was what Poe couldn’t bear.

Of course, Ben had a reason for that expression just then: he wouldn’t like being the center of attention, not in that way.  He wouldn’t like being fawned over.  He wouldn’t like being forgiven.

And Poe didn’t like seeing it happen, so he’d gone outside, and no one had noticed except for BB-8.  The little droid could recognize when Poe didn’t want to talk, and even as he rolled after Poe, BB-8 hadn’t made a sound beyond the whir of the servos which powered his movement.  Now he sat at Poe’s right side in silence, letting the pilot lean against him.

Poe closed his eyes and wondered what he would say to Ben if they were forced to interact at some point.  General Organa wouldn’t make them; they were all way past _that_ , he knew, and he wondered if _she_ had forgiven Ben.  She loved him, Poe knew, and would always love him.  But how could anyone forgive the person who had shattered her family, even (or especially) when that person was her son?

Poe still hadn’t come up with any answers when the silence between him and his droid was interrupted.  This time, Poe was the one who heard the crunch of boots on the tarmac, the one who wondered which person had realized he was missing and come out after him.  Poe didn’t open his eyes to see until he felt BB-8’s dome turn, and the droid squealed.  Then BB-8 zipped away from him, and Poe, suddenly unsupported, crashed to the ground and landed hard on his right arm.

“ _Ow_!” he groaned.  “Beebs, what are you—”  Poe hadn’t completely righted himself before he looked to see where the droid had gone, and he almost fell over again when he saw BB-8 a few feet in front of him, facing away from Poe and literally growling in a haze of static.  Looking down at Poe, past the dome of the irate droid separating them, stood Ben.

Poe sat there a moment, numbly brushing gravel off the sleeve of his jacket while cradling his bruised arm in his lap, before he stumbled to his feet with his face burning.  Ben had stopped some yards away from Poe, and when he took a step forward, BB-8 gave a static-filled series of warning beeps.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Poe muttered as he came to stand behind the droid.  BB-8 spun his head around to face Poe, chittering in a tone of concern.  Obviously, the droid _hadn’t_ forgiven Ben and didn’t seem to trust him much either, for that matter.  Poe glanced up at the taller man and saw a rather satisfying apprehension on his face as Ben watched BB-8.

“Beebs, it’s all right.  You can go back inside now.  Threepio and Artoo probably need your help,” Poe told the droid.  BB-8 shook his dome no and beeped something he must have learned from R2-D2.

“Really, it’s okay,” Poe insisted.  The droid whirred and finally relented, although he stopped and looked from one man to the other after rolling just a short distance away.  Only when Poe nodded at him encouragingly did BB-8 retreat back inside, although he gave Ben one last warning beep on his way.

When they were alone, Ben still didn’t speak; he just kept looking down at Poe with that same bewildered expression.  Poe felt like he was going to lose it if one of them didn’t say _something_ , so he finally mumbled, “How did you get away from everybody?”

Ben shrugged his broad shoulders and replied, “I told them I was going to bed.”  His voice was like Poe remembered it, startlingly deep.  Deep even without the mask to alter it, deep enough to make Poe’s spine tingle.   Ben went on, “How did _you_?”

“No one was paying any attention to _me_.  Wasn’t that what you always wanted?”  Poe hadn’t meant to say _that_ , but once he did, he couldn’t stop.  “You said you’d come back to show me up.  I just thought it would be a lot sooner than this.”

 _He probably doesn’t remember saying that_ , Poe knew.  _Probably doesn’t even remember saying goodbye to me._   Ben’s jaw tightened, and he appeared to be grinding his teeth as he watched Poe.  Poe expected an outburst of anger, but whatever Ben was feeling, he tamped it down before he spoke again.

“I gave up.”

The whole galaxy was contained in those three words, everything Ben had done and everything that had been done to him, and they completely undid Poe.

“Ben, don’t,” he muttered.  He had to look away, up at the night sky above them and the stars that littered it.  But Ben continued, as if, like Poe, he couldn’t stop talking once he started.  He spoke slowly, and Poe wondered if Ben had even planned their encounter and rehearsed it.

He said, “I wanted to be as good at something—at _anything—_ as you were, Poe.  I wanted you to admire me.  I never could accomplish that, so the best I could do was forget about you for a while.”

“ _Don’t_.”  The bitterness, envy, and hatred implied in Ben’s words were more than Poe wanted to contemplate.  His eyes picked out a star at random and focused on it as he muttered, “You’re not going to make me responsible for anything you—”

“Of _course_ you weren’t responsible!” Ben snapped, breaking out of his steady recitation.  “Nothing I did was about you.  It was _never_ about you.  Do you really think you’re the—the center of the galaxy or something?”  Poe’s eyes jerked away from the star and down to meet Ben’s, and the taller man hissed, “I didn’t think about you, Poe.  Not for a long time.”

“I never said you did!” Poe cried.  “Is that why you came out here, to tell me you didn’t miss me?”

“No.”  And then Ben spoke slowly again, back in control of himself.  “Because I _did_ think about you sometimes, after I saw you again.  I did miss you.”

In a way, that hurt worse than if Ben had never thought of Poe at all.

“Ben—” Poe began, not sure what he would reply, but the other man interrupted him.

“I came out here to say I’m sorry.  I know it won’t mean anything to you, but I am.”

Poe could only stare at Ben a moment before he could formulate any words.

“What. . . what for?  I mean—why—what did you do to _me_?”  Ben’s look of bewilderment was genuine then, and Poe fumbled to explain, “I mean—I should be the _last_ one you worry about apologizing to.  Your. . . your family. . . .”  Poe regretted the words as soon as he spoke them because they made Ben’s brows contract with pain.

“What I owe my family doesn’t lessen what I owe _you_ ,” Ben muttered.  “I hurt you, Poe.  And I’m sorry.”

All Poe could do was accept the apology, for he realized he _did_ forgive Ben.  Poe forgave everything, whether he had the right to or not.

Poe conceded, “Thank you.  It—it _does_ mean something to me.  It means a lot.”

“Really?”  Ben’s expression was cautious and guarded.

“Yes.”  And then Poe finally found words for Ben.  Maybe they weren’t the _right_ thing to say, but they were honest.  Poe felt like the two of them were boys again as he spoke: “I thought about you too, sometimes.  I missed you too.”  The cautiousness had dropped from Ben’s face, and now he looked more than bewildered: he looked _astounded_.

Poe took two steps closer to him and continued, “You said you wanted me to admire you—I’ve _always_ admired you, Ben.  Who you were, and who you could have been.  I admire you _now_ because you came back to us, and because you can still be the person you were meant to be.”

Ben still stared at Poe, the tendons in his neck standing out like he wanted to look away but couldn’t.  Unshed tears rimmed his lower eyelids.

Finally, he said, “I don’t deserve that.”

“Too bad,” Poe said with a shrug.  “It’s what you’re getting.  You can’t change how I feel about you, no matter how hard you try.”  He found that he could smile again, and then Ben was smiling too a little, and the tears dissolved back into his eyes.

Ben moved closer to Poe as well and held out his hand, as Poe had done to him years before.  That had been goodbye, but this was. . . what?  Hello?  A truce?  Poe put his smaller hand in Ben’s, and the other man’s long fingers closed over it and held it.  When he tried to let go after a moment, Poe didn’t let him.  He folded his own fingers down over Ben’s, hard, squeezing them.  By then, Ben wasn’t looking at him anymore; he had lowered his eyes to avoid meeting Poe’s gaze.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Poe asked him.

Ben muttered, “I don’t know how, when I’m not mad at you, I mean.  I’m not sure what to do if I can’t glare at you.”  He flicked his eyes up to Poe’s with another faint smile on his pale lips.

“You can smile at me,” Poe told him, still smiling himself.  “I like your smile.”  Their hands were still clasped, and when Ben tried again to free his, Poe held firm.

“Poe—don’t.”  A note of desperation sounded in Ben’s voice.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t—don’t be so _nice_ to me.  You’ve always been too nice,” Ben protested.

“I’m not just being nice,” Poe declared.  “I meant everything I said to you.  Why can’t you let anyone love you, even now?  That’s been your problem all along.  Just let us _love_ you.”

Ben’s dark eyes had widened, and now they did fix on Poe’s face.  Ben looked utterly terrified.  Poe gazed back at him a moment.  Then he let Ben’s hand drop, only to slip his arms around the larger man’s torso and embrace him firmly enough to prevent Ben from pulling away.

But Ben didn’t try to withdraw.  Instead, his entire body stiffened, and a choked noise escaped his mouth.  Poe just held him and waited, leaning his head against Ben’s shoulder and feeling the other man’s heart beating so hard, it reverberated through Poe’s body too.

Finally, Ben’s arms lifted and folded themselves limply around Poe.  When Poe didn’t move or lessen his own grip, Ben’s left arm tightened, and his right hand went to Poe’s head, raked through his wavy hair, then cupped the side of his face.

“Poe. . . .”  Ben tilted Poe’s chin up with his hand, and Poe looked up at him.  It was the closest they’d ever been to each other, at least without a mask between them, and Poe thought he could spend all night just looking at Ben’s face, learning every new scar and refamiliarizing himself with all the features he had always admired: eyes, lips, hair.  He felt oddly safe encircled in Ben’s arm, even though the taller man could quite easily have destroyed him where he stood.

 _When I was his prisoner, Kylo Ren could have used the Force to break me—physically **or** mentally,_ Poe thought.  _If he didn’t then, Ben won’t now.  The only thing he might break now is my heart, and he’s done that a hundred times already._

“Yeah?” Poe finally asked in response to Ben’s voicing of his name.

“I’ll let you,” Ben whispered.  His eyes remained apprehensive as they looked down into Poe’s, until Poe leaned up on his toes and kissed Ben—not on his mouth but on his cheek.  When Poe’s mouth touched his skin, Ben’s hands tightened in a spasm on Poe’s jaw and waist.  Ben held Poe there on his tiptoes and turned his head to whisper against Poe’s ear, “If _you_ let _me_.”

Poe wanted to make Ben say it, the one thing that mattered out of all that lay unspoken between them.

“If I let you what?” he demanded.

“ _Love you._ ”  Ben’s deep voice was barely audible, even right beside Poe’s ear.

Poe shifted until Ben’s forehead rested against his own, Ben’s head bent slightly down and Poe’s tilted slightly up.  Poe wobbled a little and his arches ached from standing on his toes, but Ben was the one who shook when Poe breathed, “I will,” barely an inch below his lips.

Ben’s fingertips dug into Poe’s skin and held his head still while Ben’s mouth caught Poe’s.  Their lips only brushed together before separating, but then Ben kissed Poe again, hard enough to make Poe drop back flat on his feet.  Ben’s mouth followed his, and within seconds, they were kissing each other deeply.  Seconds after that, Poe had Ben backed up against his X-Wing so he could rub his body against the larger man’s as they kissed.

When Poe finally broke their kiss to catch his breath, Ben gasped, “We should go inside before someone comes looking for us.”  Ben’s hands gripped Poe’s hips and held Poe so tightly against him, Poe knew he wasn’t talking about going back to the party.

“You told them you were going to bed,” Poe panted.  “Where’s bed?”

“I have my own room.  It’s small but—but private.”

Poe hesitated, weighing every option, but it didn’t take him long

“Take me with you,” he murmured.

“Will you stay all night?”  Ben was still leaving most of it unsaid, Poe knew—but for the first time, that was all right, because Poe also knew exactly what he was really asking.

Poe smiled and said, “Yes.”

\--

 _Those thousand words have never been spoken._  
_They’ll cradle you, making all of your pain seem so far away,_  
_And hold you forever._

\--

Ben had finally come home, and he still didn’t know what to say to Poe.  After Ben arrived at the base, he didn’t even see Poe, until night fell and the celebration to welcome Ben home began.

Ben hated it.  It was embarrassing—no, _humiliating_ , all this joy over him that he didn’t deserve.  The only one not joyous, it seemed, was Poe: Ben finally glimpsed him over by a wall, not looking at Ben or at anyone else, for that matter.  Poe’s dark head was bent, but his lips were moving—maybe talking to that droid of his, who would be too short to be seen over the crowd.

When Ben looked next, Poe had disappeared.  Ben glanced around until he spotted Poe going outside with BB-8 trailing behind him.  Apparently, Poe of all people was the only one not ready to forgive Ben, and right then, it was Poe’s forgiveness he wanted.

Ben still remembered what Poe had said the night before Ben left for his training: _I feel like I’m never going to see you again_.  That premonition had almost come true, and Ben couldn’t risk being separated from Poe without making some sort of peace between them.  He latched on to the excuse of being exhausted—which he was—and claimed he was going to bed—which he wasn’t.  Ben left through an interior passageway, thankfully escaping without an escort, and slipped out another door leading outside.

He could sense Poe’s presence even before his eyes made out the smaller man’s seated figure in the near darkness.  Once his vision adjusted to the dark, Ben saw that Poe was leaning against BB-8 with his eyes closed.  Poe’s looks hadn’t changed much, even since they were teenagers.  His body had matured, but he remained ridiculously handsome, downright _beautiful_ in a masculine way.  Ben still felt breathless looking at him.

Ben approached Poe slowly, trying to sort out what he wanted to say—an apology, an explanation of sorts.  Nothing Poe would care about or want to hear, probably, but maybe he would at least let Ben say it without cutting him off.  Ben imagined saying Poe’s name softly, squatting down next to him and—

BB-8’s dome-shaped head spun toward Ben, and the infernal little ball gave an ear-splitting squeal.  Ben winced and froze where he stood as BB-8 darted away from Poe to stand guard in front of his master, fidgeting and growling.  Behind him, Poe fell over.  Apparently, he had been leaning his full weight on the droid and lost his balance when his support rolled away from him.

Poe yelped “ _Ow!_ ” then started to sit up.  “BB-8, what—”  Poe broke off as his dark eyes fixed on Ben, and he wobbled like he was about to fall over a second time.  Ben secretly thrilled at seeing Poe do something clumsy, as well as at how utterly adorable he looked doing it.

Poe brushed dirt from his sleeve then got to his feet with some awkwardness.  Ben took a step toward him, but BB-8 began beeping in an irate tone to convey that he was willing to do whatever it took to protect his master.

 _Poe probably trusts me even less than that,_ Ben realized, _and he has every right to feel that way._

“It’s okay, buddy,” Poe muttered as he came up behind the droid.  BB-8 turned his head to look back at the pilot and chirp something.  Poe glanced up at Ben, then spoke to his droid again.  “Beebs, it’s all right.  You can go back inside now.  Threepio and Artoo probably need your help.”

BB-8 rotated his dome from side to side and gave a rude-sounding beep.

“Really, it’s okay,” Poe assured him.  Ben heard a long whirr come from BB-8, but then the droid finally rolled out from between them.  He paused, turning his dome to look from Ben back to Poe again.  When Poe gave him a nod, BB-8 headed back for the base but cast a cautionary beep at Ben as he passed.

Even when BB-8 was gone, Ben couldn’t speak.  All of what he had planned to say was forgotten, startled away by the droid’s angry reaction to his presence.  He stood there in dumb silence until Poe finally asked, “How did you get away from everybody?”

At least Ben had the presence of mind to answer a direct question: “I told them I was going to bed.  How did _you_?”

Poe’s eyes—still the beautiful, half-lidded eyes Ben remembered—narrowed, and he declared, “No one was paying any attention to _me_.  Wasn’t that what you always wanted?”  Ben clenched his jaw at the sudden feeling of anger the other man aroused in him.  He thought, _I’m trying to apologize, and you won’t even let me do **that**._

And still Poe kept talking and accusing: “You said you’d come back to show me up.  I just thought it would be a lot sooner than this.”

Ben wanted to stay angry.  He wanted to go back inside and leave Poe out there, if the pilot was just going to attack him.  Yet Ben knew anger wasn’t going to get him anywhere; if he had learned anything, he’d learned _that_.  He let out his held breath and said the first words that came to his lips: “I gave up.”

Poe’s lovely eyes opened wide, just before they left Ben’s face and the pilot tilted his head back to look up at the sky instead.  He muttered, “Ben, don’t.”

Finally, what Ben had intended to say came back to him, and he knew he had to say it _now_ before something else took away his chance or his voice.

He tried to explain, “I wanted to be as good at something— _anything_ —as you were, Poe.  I wanted you to admire me.  I never could accomplish that, so the best I could do was forget about you for a while.”

 _“Don’t_ ,” Poe pled, but then his voice took on a tone of irritation.  “You’re not going to make me responsible for anything you—”

“Of _course_ you weren’t responsible!” Ben interrupted.  What did Poe think Ben was trying to say—that he still blamed someone else for his failings?  Either that, or Poe was audacious enough to believe that he was all Ben ever thought about.  _He **would** think that, the cocky little bastard,_ Ben seethed.

Aloud, he spat, “Nothing I did was about you.  It was _never_ about you.  Do you really think you’re the—the center of the galaxy or something?  I didn’t think about you, Poe.”  He wanted to leave it at that, but it would have been a lie.  So he finished, “Not for a long time.”

Poe finally looked at him again, furious as he retorted, “I never said you did!  Is that why you came out here, to tell me you didn’t miss me?”  That was the very _opposite_ of what Ben had intended to say, and he waited to speak until after he had calmed himself enough to answer honestly.

“No.  Because I _did_ think about you sometimes, after I saw you again.  I did miss you.”

The anger in Poe’s eyes burned out, leaving a hurt look behind.  He began, “Ben—” but Ben interrupted him, before Poe could stop him from finishing what he intended to say.

“I came out here to say I’m sorry,” Ben told him.  “I know it won’t mean anything to you, but I am.”

Poe only stared at him a moment.  Finally, the pilot stammered, “What. . . what for?  I mean—why—what did you do to _me_?”

 _What for?!_   Ben stared right back.  Did Poe want a list of everything Ben had done to him?

Poe tried to clarify, “I mean—I should be the _last_ one you worry about apologizing to.  Your. . . your family. . . .”

Ben winced but brushed the comment aside to mutter, “What I owe my family doesn’t lessen what I owe _you_.  I hurt you, Poe.  And I’m sorry.”

The tension in Poe’s face relaxed, and Ben relaxed too.  He had said what he came to say, and Poe had listened and _heard_ him.  That was the best outcome Ben could hope for.

“Thank you,” Poe told him.  “It—it _does_ mean something to me.  It means a lot.”

“Really?” Ben murmured.

“Yes.  I thought about you too, sometimes.  I missed you too.”  Apprehension rose in Ben once more as Poe spoke; it threated to throttle him when Poe actually stepped closer to him and went on, “You said you wanted me to admire you—I’ve _always_ admired you, Ben.  Who you were, and who you could have been.  I admire you _now_ because you came back to us, and because you can still be the person you were meant to be.” 

Ben didn’t want to look at Poe anymore or meet the dark eyes that gazed up at him so prettily.  Still, he couldn’t tear his own eyes away, even as they threatened to tear up.

“I don’t deserve that,” he muttered.  Poe shrugged, and, praise the Force, the flippant tone of his next words actually made Ben smile a little and melted some of the tension inside him.

“Too bad.  It’s what you’re getting.  You can’t change how I feel about you, no matter how hard you try.”  Poe was smiling too.

Ben stepped forward, close enough for Poe to take his hand when Ben put it out.  Ben wasn’t quite sure what he had intended to do, but he certainly hadn’t intended for Poe to hang on to his hand when Ben tried to withdraw it a moment later.  Poe’s fingers contracted around his, and Ben had to look at the ground when he couldn’t bear to see the affection in Poe’s eyes.

“Why won’t you look at me?”  Poe’s tone was almost teasing.

 _You’re too damn beautiful,_ Ben thought, but aloud, he muttered, “I don’t know how, when I’m not mad at you, I mean.  I’m not sure what to do if I can’t glare at you.”  He managed to look at Poe again and to smile a little, to show he wasn’t being serious.

Poe positively beamed at him and said, “You can smile at me.  I like your smile.”

Every bit of Ben’s tension returned, because of the terrible hope Poe’s words raised in him.  He tried once more to get his hand back, but Poe still refused to let go.

“Poe—don’t,” Ben gasped, echoing the pilot’s earlier plea.

“Don’t what?”  Poe was _still_ smiling, damn him.

“Don’t—don’t be so _nice_ to me,” Ben groaned.  “You’ve always been too nice.”

Poe’s smile shifted into a cocky pursing of his lips, and he corrected, “I’m not just being nice.  I meant everything I said to you.  Why can’t you let anyone love you, even now?  That’s been your problem all along.  Just let us _love_ you.”

Ben’s insides felt like they were being clenched in some invisible fist.  _Let us love you._   Us.  As if Poe could, _did_ love him.

Poe was regarding him with a mildly curious expression, and he finally let go of Ben’s hand.  By then, Ben didn’t have the presence of mind to try to escape, and anyway, Poe’s arms were around him a second later.  Ben’s muscles clenched as tightly as his stomach had a moment ago, and he heard himself make a sound low in his throat.  Poe’s little body was warm against him, and his dark head rested on Ben’s shoulder as he held the larger man.

And Ben _wanted_ Poe to hold him, to hold him and never let go.  He embraced the pilot with trepidation at first, and when Poe didn’t react, Ben tightened his hold with one arm and lifted his other hand, trembling, to touch Poe’s wavy hair.  He stroked it with shaky fingers then rested his hand against Poe’s face, fingers under the curve of his jaw.

Ben shuddered involuntarily with desire that was both physical and emotional.  He had always denied that desire in the past, _always_ , but it was more difficult now that Poe was there in his hands, and Poe wasn’t fighting it or running away.

Ben heard himself say Poe’s name as he lifted his palm, tilting Poe’s chin up.  Poe looked up at him, and his dark eyes moved over Ben’s face.  They finally settled on Ben’s own eyes.

“Yeah?” Poe prompted.

“I’ll let you,” Ben whispered.  He watched Poe, waiting for some kind of reaction but never expecting what he got: Poe stood up on his toes to kiss Ben’s cheek.  It was a kiss a child might have given, tender and sweet, but at the same time, it sent such desire through Ben that he gripped Poe to him reflexively.

He pressed his own lips to Poe’s ear and pled for what he couldn’t say: “If _you_ let _me._ ”

“If I let you what?”  Poe was going to _make_ him say it.

Ben could barely whisper the words.  “ _Love you_.”

Poe tilted his head up so he could press his forehead to Ben’s while he whispered, “I will.”  He was tantalizing Ben and teasing him deliberately.  Ben knew it because Poe’s mouth was so close to his own.  He was goading Ben into being the one to act.

 _I don’t care,_ Ben realized, and with that realization came a freedom he had never tasted before.  _I’ll do whatever he wants if I can have him._   He held Poe’s head still and kissed him: first lightly, then hard.  Poe came down off his toes and clutched Ben’s back, so Ben followed him and caught his mouth again.

Ben was so lost in the sensation of Poe’s tongue thrusting into his mouth, he didn’t notice that the smaller man had turned them both—until Ben’s back met the side of Poe’s X-Wing, now behind him.  Poe was on him in an instant, simultaneously exploring Ben’s mouth and grinding against his body.

Finally, Poe let up on Ben, drawing back his head to catch his breath.  Now that he was able to think again, Ben realized that while he had given an excuse for his departure from the festivities inside, Poe had not.  Someone might come out looking for Poe, or BB-8 might come back to check on him.  Ben wasn’t sure by whom he least wanted to be caught kissing Poe: his mother or Poe’s droid.

“We should go back inside before someone comes looking for us.”  Ben managed to get the words out coherently, even though the feel of Poe’s hips under his hands was clouding his brain.  Too late he realized Poe might misunderstand and think Ben wanted to stop, while Ben _never_ wanted to stop.

But for the first time in the years since they met, Poe understood him perfectly.

He breathed, “You said you were going to bed.  Where’s bed?”

“I have my own room.  It’s small but—but private,” Ben said as he looked down into the lovely, dilated dark eyes gazing back up at him.

A few seconds passed, interminable seconds that each lasted an eon, before Poe whispered, “Take me with you.”

Ben still didn’t know what to say to Poe, or how to ask what he wanted to ask: _Are you going to **stay** with me?  Because I can’t be the one who leaves this time.  Because if I do let you love me, if **I** let myself love **you** and then you leave me, it will kill me._

All of that remained unspoken, and Ben only asked, “Will you stay all night?”

Poe smiled.  Once more, he understood.  Perfectly.

“Yes,” he said.

\--

_Those thousand words have never been spoken,  
Making all of those years feel like only days._

\--

The End


End file.
